


heavy is the head that wears the crown

by dvinare



Series: megaphone to my chest/ broadcast the boom, boom, boom, boom/ and make 'em all dance to it [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Sports, Ambiguous/Open Ending, F/M, Injury, Light Angst, Minor Lee Jeno/Park Jisung, Speed Skating, Trans Female Character, chenle and jeno are trans women, figure skating, i call this one: is he bothering you queen? (breaks jaemin's shins)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26684611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvinare/pseuds/dvinare
Summary: “You filthy bastard.” spits Chenle as soon as the phone call goes through. “Na Jaemin, you fucking bastard.”“Now, now. What would your lovely fanbase say if they heard you swearing like that, Zhong Chenle?” Jaemin’s voice is seemingly nonchalant but the sound of it is muffled through the speaker like he’s trying to talk as quietly as possible. Chenle can’t even begin to guess where he is right now, knowing it would be pointless. A hospital? Unlikely. At the end of the fucking world? Not too out there, really. Not when the person in question is Jaemin.
Relationships: Na Jaemin/Zhong Chen Le
Series: megaphone to my chest/ broadcast the boom, boom, boom, boom/ and make 'em all dance to it [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941778
Comments: 9
Kudos: 48





	heavy is the head that wears the crown

**Author's Note:**

> "Stood on my chest and kept me down  
> Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd"

Chenle spots him almost immediately.

It’s hard to miss Na Jaemin in the midst of a busy crowd, let alone in an almost empty skating rink. His back is straight like a guitar string, shoulders wide, chin held high, an easy smile spread across his face. If the expression was worn by another it would look cocky, self-entitled, even rude but embedded into Jaemin’s handsome features it looks charming, boyish in a way.

He makes no move to approach Chenle so she calls for another runover of their routine. Jisung sighs tiredly but gets into position nonetheless. 

Maybe it’s the curious eyes following her every movement but Chenle feels a sudden boost of adrenaline coursing through her veins. Her skates glide against the ice with power, a commanding tone in her step. Her body feels lighter as Jisung lifts her up and spins her around. His hands, once unsure and frail, no longer shake under Chenle's lithe frame, they’re solid, unwavering. Maybe she’s not the only one whose performance goes through the roof whenever there’s a pair of extra eyes, watching them move in unison to the beat of the music. Her and Jisung are painfully similar in that aspect. They’re both prideful beyond the pale.

It’s both their only weakness and their trump card when it comes to competitions.

Once the piece comes to an end there’s a moment of silence before their minds catch up to their bodies and they begin breathing heavily. The sound of Jaemin clapping echoes loudly and when Chenle looks up she’s surprised to find that the smile on his face has changed into something kinder.

She pats Jisung on the shoulder, who takes the hint and leaves but not before giving her an amused look. Chenle rolls her eyes.

She dusts off her bodysuit before gliding towards Jaemin, who’s leaning on the board, head resting on the palms of his hands.

“Nice running into you here, ice princess.” greets Jaemin, the earlier sincere smile reverting back into something more sleazy, almost mean were it not for the fact that they’ve known each other for years now.

“This is a scheduled practice, Jaemin. What are you doing here?” Chenle bites right back but there’s little malice in her words. It’s more so curiosity. She hasn’t seen Jaemin in weeks, perhaps even longer.

“Ouch,” whinces Jaemin, putting a hand over his heart.” You’ve become ruthless, Le.” 

Chenle rolls her eyes again, hitting Jaemin’s shoulder lightly. 

Jaemin is right. She’s no longer the shy teenager who stumbled over her words at interviews and press conferences. She’s stronger now, braver. She has to be if she wants to win and prove she belongs on the ice alongside Jisung.

Born and raised in Shanghai, a national champion for South Korea, the first openly trans woman to compete in pair skating. All of this and more have made Chenle into the person she is today. Sure, her costumes may be over the top sometimes, which reduces points from her and Jisung’s final score, and her choice of music can be quite extravagant but once her blades touch the cold ice she becomes a woman possessed. She’s fierce and spontaneous but she’s also graceful and poised. A little demon unleashed and unbound. No one can ever deny her the crown. For as long as she skates it’ll always belong to her, beautifully perched on top of her head.

Chenle sees Jaemin reaching a hand towards her face and she lets him. Jaemin hesitates for a second before he tucks a strand of Chenle’s hair behind her ear.

“Short hair suits you.”

“Thanks, I cut it myself.”

“Figured.” smiles Jaemin, tone suddenly bashful. “Do you want me to walk you home?” 

Chenle could refuse and laugh at his face or ridicule him for acting like a gentleman when he’s the farthest thing from one. She nods instead.

Chenle gets changed quickly and sends a text to their coach that they’re done with practice because Jisung always forgets to do it, then leaves the building.

Chenle usually walks in front of Jaemin, pace quick and steady. She likes having him trail behind her. Jaemin is one of the few people she’s not afraid to show her back to.

It’s trust. It’s trust and it’s a sense of belonging to one another. They’re different, strikingly so and sometimes they don’t see or speak to each other for months but they always come home to the other. It’s a weird, in-between space of being where they’re not friends, almost strangers even, but they’re also soul bound. Bond thinner than graphene, yet thicker than blood.

This time around, however, she lets Jaemin take the lead. Chenle doesn’t get the chance to do that often — take a breather, stroll around aimlessly like she has all the time in the world, stare at Jaemin’s back. He looks different today, Chenle can’t quite put her finger on it. His shoulders are slumped and there’s a heaviness to his step, which she hadn’t noticed earlier. 

Chenle wants to reach out a hand and run it over the length of Jaemin’s spine, see the way he’d tense up under the touch, back going rigid before realization downs onto him. She speeds up instead, leaving Jaemin to trail behind her like a shadow.

“Call me when you arrive in Beijing next week.” says Jaemin, hand running through his bleached beyond repair fringe.

“Sure.” says Chenle. She doesn’t have his number. “Good night, Jaemin.” He doesn’t have her number either. Chenle’s pretty sure Jaemin doesn’t own a phone, no social media either. The only way to reach him is to search for him, hunt him down. 

Chenle’s gotten pretty good at the latter by now.

.

There’s a loud knocking on Jaemin’s hotel door.

He hadn’t ordered room service and his coach knows better than to disturb him this late in the evening. For a second he considers pretending not to hear it but the consistent thumping quickly turns into loud bangs. 

He throws the covers off and yanks the door open ready to run his mouth off. Instead his jaw is left hanging comically as he catches sight of the intruder. On the other side stands Chenle who is looking at him with a sly smile. She looks like a phantasm — face bare of any makeup, snowflakes stuck to her short black hair and lashes, teeth shining like tiny polished gems.

She reaches a hand and settles it on Jaemin’s naked shoulder. Jaemin sighs in defeat. Her touch is warm. It’s winter and yet it’s always so warm.

“Tag, you’re it.” her voice rings like a church bell in the empty hallway of the hotel. 

“How did you find me?”

She shrugs. “I could sniff out that awful aftershave of yours from a mile away.” Jaemin snorts. “Also, Jeno sent me your location.”

“Of course she did.” Jaemin smiles. 

“Now it’s your turn.”

“Now it’s my turn.”

This game of theirs, Jaemin doesn’t hate it as much as he likes to pretend he does. They’re both athletes, champions competing for South Korea’s pride but they’re also participants in different disciplines. There’s hardly, if any time for them to see each other so instead they do this. They hide, they cover up their traces so when they meet up again it’s not by fate, not a mere coincidence. No, it’s all a part of their grand scheme, carefully crafted and perfectly executed plan. They take turns looking for each other like little kids playing hide-and-seek.

It’s highly ludicrous, it’s incredibly entertaining. It’s one of the few things Jaemin looks forward to.

“What day are you racing?” asks Chenle once she gets seated onto the sofa, which faces the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. Jaemin doesn’t answer. The easy atmosphere from earlier grows heavy by the second.

“So it is true,” Chenle concludes, looking directly at Jaemin whose eyes are glued to the floor. In shame? No, not really. He hasn’t felt shame in years. “The articles about your injury are true, are they not?”

Jaemin rubs his neck before letting a drawn out sigh leave his parted lips. “The race is on Friday.”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Na Jaemin.” Chenle’s words are cold. They rain like icicles, cut deep like glass shards. 

“What do you want me to tell you, ice princess?”

“Why don’t you cut the crap and tell me the truth.” 

Jaemin almost wants to burst into a fit of laughter but the look on Chenle’s face keeps him from doing that.

“It’s nothing serious, they’re exaggerating it. Back injuries are common with speed skaters, I’ll just go on a hiatus once The Olympics come to an end to get it treated.”

“Why haven’t you gotten treatment for it, yet?”

“I would have missed this.”

“What exactly is _this_ , Jaemin?”

“Seeing you?” he tries but Chenle only gives him an unimpressed look. “Fine, I would have missed qualifying.”

If it was anyone else they would have scolded Jaemin but Chenle, well she’s different. It’s why Jaemin likes her and seeks her company outside of the ice rink. She knows what it feels like to be desperate, to fight your way up to the top despite the world's clear apathy and strange desire to see you fail. They’re athletes, they’re stars but they’re also people. Longevity doesn’t exist in sports, especially in ice skating. They have to seize every chance to compete even if it’s at the expense of their own bodies. 

Hours of tireless training, injuries both physical and emotional, they mean nothing if there’s no title to go with them. Medals and trophies are the only way to prove their worth. Sweet words of reassurance and concern, call for a rest or for a next time are but a cruel joke. Only people who’ve never tasted the dirt beneath their own feet can afford to tell them to take it easy. And Chenle. Chenle has walked the path to success twice, three times more than anyone else. She would never discourage Jaemin from doing anything in the name of skating even if she knows it could end up being his biggest regret.

“Show me.” she says. 

Jaemin turns around and lifts the hem of his tank top. He can feel Chenle’s eyes skidding over before they settle on the small of his back. It’s not that visible because the injury is internal but there’s a slight swell and redness to the skin.

“How bad does it hurt?” 

Jaemin shrugs, unsure how to answer her question: “Sometimes it’s just fine, others I can’t really get up on my own. It’s weird.”

Chenle reaches a hand and places it over the skin gently. Jaemin had anticipated the touch but it still makes him shudder. They're close, they're much too close. Jaemin can bear the burden of his own foolish decisions, he can rise against the odds and accept the consequences when he inevitably falls to the ground but this, this he cannot do. Chenle is an enigma, a mystery, a ghost, a vision. She's supposed to stay just that so this touch, this proximity, he needs it gone. Far gone, long gone. 

“I should get going.” says Chenle all of a sudden, her hand detaching itself from Jaemin's back like an old piece of duct tape.

“Okay.”

Once they’re at the door Chenle turns around one final time and says firmly: “I’ll be there on Friday, front seat. Good night, Jaemin.” And with that she disappears.

Jaemin stares at her back longingly until she vanishes from his sight, something heavy forming in the depths of his very core. Guilt.

He doesn’t get much sleep after. 

.

“You filthy bastard.” spits Chenle as soon as the phone call goes through. “Na Jaemin, you fucking bastard.”

“Now, now. What would your lovely fanbase say if they heard you swearing like that, Zhong Chenle?” Jaemin’s voice is seemingly nonchalant but the sound of it is muffled through the speaker like he’s trying to talk as quietly as possible. Chenle can’t even begin to guess where he is right now knowing it would be pointless. A hospital? Unlikely. At the end of the fucking world? Not too out there, really. Not when the person in question is Jaemin.

The words still manage to calm her a bit. Jaemin is using his annoyingly sweet and slightly condescending voice but he’s not dropping pet names left and right. He’s calling her by name, something he rarely does if it can be helped. Chenle hates the nickname. Ice princess. She hates it. She misses the way it would roll off his tongue. 

Jaemin is being serious for once in his own type of way. That only makes it harder for Chenle to be mad at him.

“You lied to me.” she says. There’s no question mark at the end, no uncertainty, it is merely a statement. One that sounds heavy to both their ears.

Jaemin didn’t show up at the race, the spokesperson announcing his forfeit, which made the crowd erupt into disappointment. Word got out soon after. Every sports segment, newspaper article and column, everyone was asking the same question over and over again like a broken record: “ _Where in the world is Na Jaemin?_ ”

Chenle was there in the crowd when it happened. She left shortly after, not bothering to stay long enough for the results to get announced. Winter Olympics 2022 wrapped up. Her and Jisung got silver, Jaemin left empty handed. 

“I did lie to you, yeah.” confirms Jaemin.

Chenle inhales deeply. She’s burning up from the inside, there’s a fire roaring in her chest, something primal, animalistic. It’s anger, it’s rage. She wants to yell, to scream her lungs out until her voice is hoarse and worn out, until she’s back to being a cold icicle. An ice princess.

“I suppose you won’t tell me why.” she says instead, biting on her nails to stop the rest of her thoughts from spilling out.

“No. No, I won’t.”

The two of them, they’re not like that. They’re just not. It all comes back to the fact that Chenle is the only person who understands Jaemin’s drive, what propels him to move forward. She may not comprehend it fully but she respects him enough not to stand in his way, not to try and drag him down like many others do. 

Chenle knows how fiercely Jaemin despises kindness, pity. It’s never about him, never about how he feels like or what he wants, it’s about them. It’s about patting themselves on the back and feeling righteous, feeling like they’ve done a greater good, something worthy of praise. Jaemin would sooner die than let himself get tangled into misplaced compassion and supposed acts of selflessness. He’ll pay the price for his own stubbornness but never will he let himself get swayed by others.

“I didn’t think you’d actually call.” says Jaemin after what feels like an eternity.

“I didn’t know you owned a phone.” Chenle fires right back, which makes Jaemin chuckle. It’s a hushed sound, coming somewhere from within. 

“Yeah, my coach made me get one after I got lost in Vancuver last year.”

“Didn’t you disappear for three days while in Prague, as well?”

“Still managed to make it on time for the competition, though. I personally count that as a win.” 

Chenle sighs tiredly. The anger is slowly starting to melt away: “Weirdo,” she says almost fondly. 

“You’re the weird one,” accuses Jaemin. ”How did you even get my number?”

“Do I need to spell it out for you?” Chenle’s sure that Jaemin can see her quirked eyebrow all the way from wherever the hell he is.

“You need to stop hanging out with Jeno, she’s starting to spill all my secrets.”

“Maybe you should stop showing her all your weaknesses.”

“Maybe I should.” humms Jaemin.

There’s a loud sneeze from Chenle’s side of the line. And then another.

“Jesus,” she sighs, already bracing herself for Jaemin’s teasing voice, which fills up the empty space almost immediately. 

“Awwww,” coos Jaemin. “Is your cute, little boyfriend listening to our conversation?”

Chenle ignores the way Jisung’s cheeks redden, handing him a tissue.

“Yes, Jisung is here. No, he’s not my _‘cute, little boyfriend’_.”

“Pity. You two would look so cute together.”

“Tell that to Jisung’s fat crush on Jeno.”

Jisung lets out a loud shriek but says nothing in fear of embarrassing himself further.

“Ah, yes. That. Tell him she won’t wait forever to be asked out. Plenty of other awkward, lanky guys have their eyes on her.”

Jisung deflates a little at the words, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. Chenle pats his thigh and gives him a little smile.

“I’m letting you off the hook this time around.” she says into the speaker, voice much gentler than she had intended for it to be. “Come and find me when you figure your shit out.”

Chenle hangs up before Jaemin has time to answer back. It’s better this way. She doesn’t give him the chance to back out on her challenge. 

.

Chenle doesn’t hear a word from Jaemin for months after their call. She doesn’t save his number either.

It doesn’t strike her as odd because this is what their relationship looked like since the very beginning. There’s not much she can do besides wait for him to crawl out of his hideout and find her sooner or later. They’re both plenty busy with upcoming competitions as it is, there’s no point in dwelling on the topic. They’re athletes, champions. Everything else comes second, even their little play of hide-and-seek. 

The only times Chenle thinks about Jaemin are after practice when there’s sweat gathered at her brow and a distinct ache in her ankles. She wonders if Jaemin is practicing too, if he’s being kind to his body or pushing it to its limits. 

She wouldn’t admit it but she looks up his name a few times, too. There isn’t anything new, she notes before throwing her phone aside. 

Jaemin disappears all the time, his fans only see him at competitions if he decides to show up and yet the news are always talking about him, coming up with ridiculous theories and accusations. He’s a star for all the wrong reasons.

But at the end he always comes back, Chenle reminds herself.

And he does. He does always come back.

Just a week before her and Jisung are to leave for China Jaemin shows up at their practice uninvited. The previous heaviness to his steps has turned into visible limping. Chenle tears her eyes away from him and continues the routine. She manages to suppress it all — all thoughts unwanted and invasive, which try to slither through the cracks of her skull, every ounce of guilt. She kills them before they have the time to grow into something bigger. None of these thoughts would benefit them in any way, not her, not Jisung and definitely not Jaemin.

The dread grows with every second until their coach finally calls it a day and Chenle can take a breath. Jaemin is still at the bleachers, waiting patiently. Chenle only spares him a glance but it’s enough to have the ugly feelings inside her chest ressurface. Jaemin approaches her eventually as she begins taking her skates off. It takes him a while to get down the stairs. He tries to hide it but they both know Chenle has always been able to see right through him.

Jaemin’s hair is black now, longer too. It’s hard not to notice these things. Even at his worst Jaemin looks nothing shy of a model. His face has gotten skinnier and the clothes hang awkwardly from his body in places but his smile is the same. It’s still just as sharp and huge and. It’s still just as beautiful. 

“Looks like you two will be bringing gold back home.” 

Another thing, which hasn’t changed is his voice. It’s still the right amount of teasing if a little more than usual. 

“We have to qualify first.” says Chenle.

“Well I already bought tickets so you better not let my money go to waste.”

Chenle huffs, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. She needs a haircut.

“Are you coming this week?” she tries to sound as uninterested as possible but a sliver of hope slips into her words.

“Sorry, princess. Jeno was assigned at Internationaux de France, I promised to go with her. You know how antsy she can get right before a competition.”

“I know.”

“Don’t get all sullen on me now.” says Jaemin, running his hand through Chenle’s damp hair.” I told you, I’ll be there for the final. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Shut up, I know.”

“You’re so cute when you get all shy.”

“Fuck you, Jaemin.”

Once Chenle gets changed, the two of them make their way out of the skating rink. Upon Chenle’s request they go to the grocery store to pick up some stuff. She’s not sure why she’s letting Jaemin get this close, why she’s allowing him to see the type of cereal she eats in the morning, why she’s letting him push the trolley around the empty market instead of doing it herself. All Chenle knows is that their meetings are never random, they never cross paths to just exchange a word or two. There’s always purpose, something that brings them together. There has to be a reason behind Jaemin’s sudden appearance but he hasn’t brought it up yet so she’s giving him time to assemble his thoughts, to get the words out.

The clouds are grey and heavy in the sky as they walk through the back alleys of Seoul. Something is building up in the air, something huge and inevitable. He’s going to drop the bomb any time now and Chenle’s not sure if she’ll survive the impact. Jaemin is once again trailing behind her like a shadow, like a second layer of skin until he isn’t. 

“I’m retiring.”

If it was anyone but Jaemin they would have likely whispered the words out of a desperate attempt to hide from their weight, from the implications behind them. Not Jaemin. His voice is even as he speaks them out. Because there’s no punch to them Chenle doesn’t register them immediately.

“Ah, is that so?”

“Yeah. I’m holding a press conference in two months.”

“I thought you said that I was the cruel one, Na.”

When Jaemin doesn’t answer her, Chenle begins to feel the words finally sinking in: “Why?”

“My back has gotten worse.”

“Don’t give me that crap, Jaemin. Speed skaters go through minor back injuries all the time. Why are you giving up?”

“I’m twenty-five, princess. I would have retired sooner or later anyways.”

Chenle feels anger bubbling up inside. Everything with Jaemin, it’s always so complicated, so infuriating. She can never read him, never quite grasp if he’s being dismissive or coy. He never lies because there’s nothing he can possibly gain from it but there’s always something about his words, something left unspoken. It makes Chenle want to punch him square in the jaw, mess up his pretty face, strip it bare until the whole world can see him how she sees him.

“So, now that you’ve decided to run away what’s your grand plan?” asks Chenle, her eyes red with fury. She can’t see anything beyond surface level, the words spilling out of her mouth without consent.

“You know, I like it when you talk to me like that. Everyone tries to kiss up my ass, even my own family but not you.”

“Stop being so condescending.” Chenle rolls her eyes but stops when she sees the look on Jaemin’s face. He’s never looked so young, so bare, so. So scared.

Na Jaemin laughs in the face of failure and misfortune, he forces his way through life and reaches for places, which were never meant for him. He doesn’t get scared, he doesn’t look unsure, hesitant. Never.

“I’m not.” he utters tiredly. “You know I’d never act patronizing towards you, of all people. I respect you and our relationship, that’s why I’m telling you this before word gets out.” 

Chenle looks down at her feet if only so she wouldn’t have to see Jaemin and his huge eyes and his long lashes and his chapped lips and.

“It’s getting late. You can crash at my place if you want.” says Chenle. Instead of waiting for an answer she resumes walking, fully confident that Jaemin would follow her lead. He does. The snow crunches under their feet, the plastic bag full of groceries rustles loudly.

Chenle pauses before she unlocks the door to her apartment: “You know, I wanted to punch you a moment ago. I could have done it.” she doesn’t know what possesses her to say this to Jaemin’s face but it feels right to be honest with him.

“You could have, yeah.”

“But I didn’t.”

“No, you didn’t.” chuckles Jaemin. “Do you still want to?”

“No, but it feels like you’d let me.”

“I would, just not the left side. I still need to make money somehow.”

Chenle turns around, right hand clutching the key hard until her knuckles turn white. Her eyes are swimming and she’s gritting her teeth.

Jaemin sighs deeply and gathers her in his arms. They stay in the hallway for a while, Chenle sniffling quietly into Jaemin’s neck, her hands holding him tight in fear that he’ll turn to sand any second now and slither through her fingers. 

“You’re so cruel, Zhong Chenle.” whispers Jaemin in her ear softly. “How do I let you go now, huh?”

.

Jaemin makes good of his promise.

He calls Chenle the night before her qualifications and talks to her until she falls asleep. He also comes to cheer for her and Jisung at the Grand Prix Finals and even takes them out when they win gold. Unsurprisingly, he disappears into thin air the morning after. 

Chenle hates herself for remembering that night so vividly.

She can still recall the feeling of Jaemin’s strong arms around her middle as he scooped her up and spun her around, his stupidly big eyes shining with pride. Jaemin had been acting strangely cheerful the whole night, more so than usual at least. His teeth were bared in a comically big smile as he led them to a small dumpling restaurant at the heart of Saint Petersburg; feet quick and unsteady, hands cold and constantly pointing at different sights as though his body couldn’t keep up with his mind. Jaemin kept talking and talking, speech jumbled and hard to understand, streams of words trying to escape from between his lips before they got forgotten, buried somewhere deep within to rot. Chenle had trailed behind him as he sped his way through the giant city like it was his home, a place he’d known his whole life.

The restaurant Jaemin took them was nice and cozy, the food and alcohol filling up their insides as folk music played in the background. Chenle watched as Jaemin’s fingers would wrap around a glass of _horilka_ , downing it and moving on to the next one until his eyes had turned droopy and sightless. Later, after they accompanied Jisung to his own room, her and Jaemin had ended up crashing on the same bed, fully clothed, too tired and out of it to change. Jaemin had clung to Chenle like an overgrown leech, his breath heavy and warm against her neck. Chenle had let herself melt into his embrace just this once.

When she woke up Jaemin was gone, having left behind only a yellow scrap of paper, which read: _Don’t let me drink ever again._

After that it was back to normal. Her and Jisung returned to their homerink and almost doubled their practice time in preparation for The Four Continents Championship. 

Jaemin vanished entirely. He didn’t even show up at his own press conference, instead having his coach announce that he’ll no longer be skating competitively. The news was received harshly — half the world was dragging him through the mud, calling him names, claiming he never cared for the sport and only brought it a bad reputation; the other half was mourning him like one would do a dead relative. For months all anyone would talk about was Na Jaemin but he never once made a statement nor a public appearance, he didn’t give them the gratification of winning over him.

The person called Na Jaemin turned into a cryptid, a myth almost. Not a glimpse of him, not even a word from a word and yet he was in everyone’s mouth, occupying their minds on the daily, driving them mad without even being physically present.

The situation humoured Chenle greatly.

She would get asked about Jaemin too, people demanded her to share his whereabouts and what not. She simply shrugged and moved on.

The uproar died out eventually but Jaemin was still nowhere to be found. Chenle didn’t try to get in contact with him because she was aware of how pointless that’d be. Instead she gave herself time to be a person outside of the rink.

She got closer to Jeno, bleached her hair until it was snow white, laughed maniacally when Jisung almost spilt a steaming cup of coffee all over Jeno’s new dress, helped Jisung ask Jeno out, dyed her hair back to black and then bleached it again a week later until it became dry as hay, cried her eyes out when she had to cut it short and had her first kiss with a girl from Italy’s national team, who she couldn’t remember the name of and didn’t bother to.

Chenle was racing through life and she wasn’t sure where she was headed or even what she was looking for. All she knew was that she had to go forward and never look back. Staying put gave her room to think and her mind liked to play cruel jokes on her so she never let herself live inside a moment for too long.

  
  
  


The summer of 2024, more than a year and a half after Jaemin's sudden disappearance, she gets a call from an unknown number.

“Hey, ice princess.” Jaemin’s voice sounds distorted, covered up by the sound of a noisy crowd.

“You’re still alive.” muses Chenle. “What hole did you crawl out of this time?”

“Well, aren’t you the most charming girl I’ve had the pleasure of speaking to.” Chenle won’t admit it but her face splits in a huge grin when she hears Jaemin’s voice climb a notch, the sound of it sickeningly sweet like honey.

“Please, I’m the only girl you’ve had the pleasure of speaking to. And before you ask, no, Jeno doesn’t count. Because I know for a fact that you haven’t been speaking to her either.”

“Ouch, princess. I see you’ve kept your tongue sharp in my absence.”

“Don’t humble yourself, I speak to everyone who pisses me off like that.”

“Hmmm, that is true but I still like to believe I have a special place in your cold, guarded heart.”

Chenle cracks and gives him the pleasure of hearing her full body laughter. It rings over the line, almost drowning the noise of the city.

“Where are you, Jaemin? It’s one after midnight and you dare to disturb my beauty sleep so it must be important.”

“I’m in Incheon at the moment but I’ll be returning to Seoul tomorrow morning. Would you be so kind as to grace me with your blinding presence?”

Chenle feels a warmth spread inside her ribcage, something familiar coursing through her veins, which had been buried deep up until now: “You’re in luck. I have tomorrow off so you can drop by whenever. You know where the spare key is.”

“That I know.”

“Jaemin?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you back?” Chenle doesn’t mean for her voice to come out so hopeful, so quiet but it does. She’s tired from constantly waiting and wondering and asking herself when, why, if she’ll ever see him again. She doesn’t realize how much she’s missed having him around until now.

“Yeah, I’m back.”

.

Chenle wakes up to the distinct sound of plates clattering and a deep, punching aroma soaking the air all the way from the kitchen to her bedroom. She smiles.

The sun is already out by the time she takes a shower, dresses up and heads to the kitchen. There she’s met with the sight of Jaemin who is wearing her “ _kiss the cook_ ” apron and is transferring food from a frying pan onto the only two plates that Chenle owns. Once he’s done he turns around and greets her with a charming smile and she hates him for it. She loves him for it.

“Come, I made breakfast.” he urges.

“That I can see.” mumbles Chenle but she takes a seat regardless. “What’s that?” she asks curiously when she takes a closer look at the plate in front of her.

“It’s Shakshuka, I learned how to make it recently.”

It’s normal.

They haven’t seen each other in almost two years, yet it feels so normal. Chenle watches intently as Jaemin cleans his plate and goes for seconds, some of the tomato sauce getting stuck to his chin in the process. He looks happy. He’s always looked happy but now there’s a different kind of glow to him, something more natural, unfabricated. This brand of happiness is not for the masses to see and observe and dissect, it’s for him and him alone. Chenle just so happens to be allowed to view it.

Her eyes trace the shape of his face. She notes how Jaemin’s cheeks are no longer sunken, he’s gained back the weight he had lost when Chenle last saw him. His skin is tan and healthy-looking and there’s a dark shadow over his upper lip where he’s forgotten to shave. He looks bigger somehow, broader. There's a different kind of presence to him now, something both physical and intangible. In a way he’s the most human Chenle has ever seen him.

“You’ve changed, I like that. You no longer look like a sleazy bastard.” teases Chenle if only to see Jaemin’s expression at the back-handed compliment. 

“You think so?” Jaemin smiles as he takes the empty plates to the sink.

“Yeah. You’ve been travelling, right?”

“Hitchhiking. I still can’t believe no one recognized me, it was so peaceful.”

Chenle almost makes a joke about the enormity of Jaemin’s ego but something in his expression stops her from doing so. Instead she asks him about it.

Jaemin narrates his whole journey from start to finish. He tells Chenle about all the places he’d visited, all the people he’d met and spent time with — some he’d shared a bed and traveled with for weeks, others he’d made out with at random bars and pubs and never seen again; some were old and wise, others foolish and young much like him but regardless he’d left a piece of his heart for every single one of them to have, to guard, to cherish.

From Seoul to Wonju to Daegu to Busan then with a feribot to Fukuoka, Hiroshima, Osaka, Nagoya and Tokyo where he’d taken a plane to Beijing.

“I actually worked there for a couple of weeks.” Jaemin smiles at the memory. “My Mandarin still sucks but I could probably hold a simple conversation with your parents.”

“My parents?” asks Chenle, her sides turning red at the implication.

“Jisung’s met them, right? I think it’s only fair that I do too at some point in the future.” Jaemin’s tone is so casual as though he’s discussing the weather forecast with an elderly lady on the subway. 

“Fine. You can meet them, I guess.” 

Jaemin beams at her words and continues speaking animatedly. He tells Chenle about how he’d accidentally booked a flight to Turkey when he’d been meaning to visit Indonesia. Instead of asking for a refund he’d boarded the plane and ended up in a village east of Izmil where he’d worked at a small family-owned diner for two months.

“They taught me how to make Shakshuka and let me stay in their guest room for free as long as I helped around. They had twins, too — Ayaz and Azra. I took them to school a couple of times. We couldn’t really understand each other because they didn’t speak English but they were still nice kids.”

“What, don’t tell me now that you’re retired you’ll adopt a bunch of children and live in the countryside?”

“I’m too young to have kids, princess.”Jaemin laughs. “Anyways I was close to Europe already so I decided to hitchhike there instead of flying all the way back to Indonesia. I think I reached as far as Poland before I decided to pack my stuff and come back.”

Chenle stays quiet for a while. She tries to imagine Jaemin's scrubby face as he had made his way from one city to another, his overgrown hair and worn out shoes, the early morning breeze in his face and the sun laying gentle kisses all over his neck and bare arms. This is a Jaemin she’s never seen before. He belongs to the countless nameless strangers he’d met and left behind along the way. Not to his fans, not to the news outlets, not to her.

“Why did you never call, Jaemin?”

“I lost my phone on the way to Nagoya.”

“Bullshit. Did you know that me and Jisung won The Worlds?”

“I heard about that, yeah. Congratulations, I knew you’d be able to do it.”

Something breaks just then and Chenle feels everything within, everything she’s been repressing for a while now, spill out.

“What about Jeno, huh? Did you know that Jisung asked her out, that us three have been having movie nights every Friday since you left, that we’ve been planning to take a trip once the season ends, that I’ve missed you? Fuck! Jaemin, did you know that I’ve missed you?” 

There are no tears in her eyes like that one night Jaemin held her in his arms. Chenle’s tired of crying, she’d done that plenty over the years. Cried over not qualifying, cried when her and Jisung lost and lost and kept losing for two years straight, cried when her father passed away, when Jaemin told her he’s retiring from the sport, which brought them together. She has no more tears left to cry. 

“I’m sorry, Chenle. You can choose not to believe me but I am. I’m not asking you to forgive me or to forget these past two years but what I’m trying to say is that I’m here now if you’ll have me.”

Chenle snorts.

“You haven’t been in the public eye for so long and yet you still know how to sweet-talk a girl into forgiving you, don’t you, Na Jaemin?” Chenle laughs dryly. “ _I’m here now if you’ll have me_ , seriously? Who says that? I take back what I said earlier, you’re still a bastard of a man.”

Jaemin smiles and lays his hand on top of her, intertwining their fingers. Chenle feels her heart flutter without permission.

“I’ve always been like that, princess. I guess you’ll just have to decide if you’ll keep me despite my many, many flaws.”

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is an absolute mess, it is so far away from what i originally wanted it to look like but due to stubbornness and something little called "burnout" i decided to power through it and see what happens... so here it is. i am planning to write a sequel of sorts but really it'll just be the story from jaemin's perspective because originally i wanted to explore some themes conserning him, his injury, his desicion to retire, etc. buuuuut i got side tracked??
> 
> you are in your full right to dislike or question jaemin's actions because they are very vaguely described and come with a certain sense of ambiguity, however, have you considered that i have na jaemin brain rot therefore i can excuse him for being like that? 
> 
> in other news i have an unhealthy obssession with trans girl chenle so i will do everything in my power to write that sequel because it's just so, so fun to write about her and the way she interacts with jaemin. also she deserves better than this jaemin so i'll try to redeem him haha.
> 
> chenle: exists  
> me: so true queen, are you single?
> 
> anyways, you're legally obliged to share your thoughts in the comments so do it <3
> 
> twitter:[@kittykatjeno](https://twitter.com/kittykatjeno)  
> 


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